Chasing Dreams
by thereisalight
Summary: Four East High seniors applied for the Julliard scholarship. This story follows Ryan, Kelsi, Sharpay, and Troy as they make what could be a life-changing decision. Story is made of 4 mostly unrelated oneshots.
1. Indecision

**This story is my first (fanfiction or otherwise) in quite a long time, so I may be a bit rusty. I'm planning on only having four chapters, each about a separate character's Julliard application, though that may not always be the focus of the chapter. Each chapter is probably going to be an unrelated oneshot, though I may try to incorporate similar themes or plotlines throughout.**

**Also, I don;t own anything.  
**

"I don't understand what I did wrong, Mr. Stevens," Kelsi Nielsen addressed her Advanced Music Composition teacher after class. She was trying to keep her voice level, but it was hard, as every time that she looked at the large red C on her last composition for the class, she felt as if her entire world was coming down. The middle aged man in front of her had been anticipating this conversation, but that didn't stop the worry and displeasure from showing on his stern but kind face. "You didn't do anything _wrong_…to be honest there are some students who I would have been thrilled to see this piece come from."

"Then why punish me for it? I mean, I did everything that you asked for with the piece."

"I know, Kelsi."

"And I worked on it for hours."

"I know, Kelsi."

"And I _cannot _do poorly in this class. I just can't."

"I know, Kelsi," Mr. Stevens responded, chuckling mirthlessly. He was well aware of Kelsi's aspirations, even if she was too shy to openly speak of them. "Then _why_?!" Kelsi asked, yelling at herself to remain calm. "Because we both know that this isn't the best you can do," Mr. Stevens responded. Though he was an understanding man, and genuinely liked Kelsi, tact had never been his strong point.

"Well, what's wrong with it? Just let me know and I'll fix it," Kelsi blurted out desperately. "That's exactly it! You didn't write this for yourself, you didn't write it because you thought it as good, you wrote this to fill all the criteria and because you thought it would impress me. And yes, you incorporated everything that I asked for, and it shows a technical knowledge that few people your age have. But that doesn't change the fact that if you don't write for yourself, everything you do will be as uninspiring and dull as this." Kelsi could do nothing but study her shoes intently. She knew that everything she was hearing was the truth. She knew it even before she heard it out loud. But now she was being forced to admit it to herself. "I just," she finally stammered, "I don't know…"

"Don't know what?" Mr. Stevens asked gently. I don't know why writing for myself isn't enough anymore. I mean, I spent hours working on that thing," she pointed to her piece like it was diseased, "'and even when I finished I hated it."

"Look Kelsi, you just need to relax. Remember why you first started writing in the first place. Go make to the writer that you were just a couple of months ago. That was a musician who knew exactly what she liked in a song and knew how to make it happen. If that composer can get back, and revise this piece, I would be more than happy to rethink your grade." Kelsi looked up, managing a half smile at these words of encouragement and hope. "Now, I've been meaning to talk to you about something else. I assume that Ms. Darbus gave you the scholarship application for Julliard?"

"Um, yeah…" Kelsi said quietly.

"And you've filled it out? And picked what compositions you want to send in?"

"Well, I…I mean, I've been meaning to, but I've just been really busy with school, and…" her voice trailed off into nothingness.

"Kelsi," Mr. Stevens began sternly, "you know how great of an opportunity this is. And maybe you don't know this, but I'm telling you that you have as much of a chance as being accepted as any other applicant. And I am not going to let you blow such a great thing because you're scared." Kelsi sat there motionlessly. She wanted to yell out and say that she wasn't afraid. That fully intended on filling out the application right after she got home. That she didn't get terrified every time she looked at the application. But none of those things would have been true, so she simply said in a voice just above a whisper "alright."

"Good, now I have to go to a meeting, but how about you get that piece to me buy next week, and I really do hope that you get the application to Ms. Darbus by then as well," he told her earnestly.

As Kelsi walked down the hall, she wasn't sure what to think. All she knew was that her ability to write music, the thing that she loved to most in the world, seemed to be slipping away from her more and more with each passing day. It was a feeling that scared her more than anything that she had experienced in a very long time. All that she wanted to do was run home and hide from everything, but despite what her delicate features and shy demeanor suggested, Kelsi was a strong person. She wouldn't let something so important to her just disappear.

That was why a few minutes later, Kelsi found herself sitting in the practice room staring at the same familiar black and white keys. She had put a few pages of staff paper in front of her and hoped that inspiration would suddenly strike her. But a few minutes (though it could have been hours) later, she was in the same position. Every creative bone in her body seemed to have completely shut down. She tried everything from looking at other pieces for inspiration to trying to improvising and hoping that something would come to her. But still, nothing worked. Finally, she slammed the keys in frustration, creating a noise that even surprised her, and caused her to jump. She received another shock a second later when a voice said "I'm not an expert, but I think you might have missed a note."

Kelsi turned quickly to discover the source of the voice, and was somewhat surprised to find Zeke standing at the entrance of the room, leaning on the doorframe.

"Zeke…" Kelsi sputtered, still slightly in shock from his unexpected intrusion, "what are you doing here?" she asked, not sure if her voice had come out welcoming or upset. "I got out of practice a few minutes ago, and I forgot my keys in my locker…and on my way I saw you in here. Sorry for scaring you. I just…you looked like you were concentrating and I didn't want to disrupt you," Zeke said, speaking faster than he normally did in an attempt to explain himself.

"Well, you weren't interrupting much…"

"Oh? You were sounding pretty good. I mean, not that I know what 'good' really sounds like, but…I liked it."

"Well, thanks," Kelsi said with a half smile, "unfortunately you might be the only one," she glanced at her most recently graded composition. Zeke, noticing where Kelsi's eyes went, said "hey, don't worry about that. I mean, it's just one person's opinion. And even if you did write one bad thing…no one's perfect."

"No, I know. It's not even just that."

"What wrong then?"

"I don't know," Kelsi sighed deeply, "Have you ever felt like…like something that was a really big part of your life, and that you always thought would be there, was just slipping away?"

"Well, I don't know if this is the same thing, but there was a stretch when I thought I had completely forgotten to play basketball," Zeke offered hopefully.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I mean, I know it sounds dumb, and it sort of is dumb. But when I first got on the varsity team in freshman year, everything completely changed. I just kept freezing. The shots that used to be simple always missed, the hoop always seemed 50 feet away and 3 inches wide. At one point I think I even forgot how to dribble," he said, his face both nostalgic and slightly embarrassed.

"So what did you do?" Kelsi asked. By now she was feeling more comfortable with Zeke's presence, and had almost forgotten that just a few minutes ago her world seemed on the brink of falling apart. "I got over it. It definitely wasn't easy. I practiced pretty much all the time, and went over game scenarios in my head all day. But I think it was more than that. I forced myself to confront my fears. In my case, those fears were that I would mess up and make myself look like an idiot in front of the entire school, and let my team down. But after admitting that, it was a lot easier to get over that fear." Kelsi didn't say anything. "I'm sorry. You didn't ask for my life story. I was just babbling," Zeke apologized, misunderstanding her silence. "No. That's not it. I was just thinking."

"Oh okay," Zeke said, sounding relived, "what are you thinking about?"

"Just…my fears."

"What are they?"

"…rejection. Taking a chance and having it backfire."

"If it helps, I think I'm guilty of that one as well," Zeke said, looking at her more directly than he ever had before, then quickly turning away, "I think everyone is."

"Yeah, you're right. Its just that my entire life I've been able to go under the radar and avoid risks. Now there's this whole Julliard thing, and I can't do that. And I know that this whole thing is dumb, but its completely taking over everything that I try to do."

"It's not dumb," Zeke said reassuringly, "I mean, this is your whole life. That's not dumb."

"Thanks," Kelsi said, smiling for the perhaps the first time that day, "I still don't know what I'm going to do about…well, anything, but thanks."

"No problem, and look, I don't really know anything about Julliard or music, or anything really, but I do know that you love all of this stuff. I mean, anyone that sees you even in the same room as a piano knows how important it is to you. And there's a reason for that. I'm not saying I know what it is, but I do know that Julliard isn't that reason. It started before the Julliard thing, and it will be there afterwards."

The two teenagers sat in silence. Kelsi, surprised that Zeke knew so much about everything, and Zeke hoping that he hadn't embarrassed himself. "You're right," Kelsi finally said. "I am?" Zeke asked with wide eyes.

"You are," Kelsi said, giggling quietly.

"Well, I'll have to tell some people the big news," he said, smiling, "anyway, I should get going…music geniuses aren't the only ones with senior year stress."

"Alright, talk to you later."

"Bye."

"Oh, and Zeke…"

"What's up?"

"Thanks a lot…I really mean it."

"Hey, anything for y-…anything for a friend," Zeke said, and slipped out of the room.

Kelsi once again looked down at her composition paper. She still didn't know what to write, and she was still terrified when she looked down at the black letters on the application cover. But now, as she again pressed her fingers slowly to the keys, she was no longer paralyzed. As the music flowed out of the piano, she could almost feel it freeing her mind.

**I was fairly happy with how this turned out, though some parts probably need work. Let me know what you thought, and I'll try to get back to you. You can also let me know who you think I should do next in the series. **

**Thanks for reading.  
**


	2. Ambition

**Here is the second chapter of the series. Thank you very, very much to all of the people that reviewed the first, I really appreciated it.  
**

**This chapter is very different than the first, as it is more or less a monologue by Sharpay describing what the scholarship means to her. Because it's more of a monologue than a straightforward story, it is admittedly pretty short. Stylistically, I wanted to make it seem more like a person's thought process, so the writing might seem a little awkward at some points (even more so because Sharpay's thoughts and personality are a bit off the wall sometimes), hopefully you guys don;t mind that too much. Let me know if you do.**

**Also, don;t own anything.  
**

I know what they all say about me, I'm not stupid. Trust me, I realize that there is a long list of words that could be used to describe Sharpay Evans, and none of them are overly flattering, but stupid isn't on that list. Selfish, spoiled, inconsiderate, diva complex, I've heard them all, and (though I'll never admit this out loud) I know that a lot of them aren't completely unfair. Of course, I prefer to look at myself in a different light: driven, talented, self-assured, perfectionist. I ask you, are those things so bad?

Sure, maybe I take those things a little too far, but that's who I am, and I refuse to change for family, friends, anyone. Does that make me the famed "Ice princess"? Maybe it does, but do you want to know something? I don't care. That's right. None of the murmurs or rumors matter to me at all. Do you want to know why?

Because I'm bigger than this place…or at least, I need to be.

Ever since I was young, ambition is something that I've had in pretty healthy supply. Some people think that makes me insufferable, and sometimes those people are right, but it also lets me dream, and place my goals at heights that most people can't even see.

Now, I don't want you to get the wrong idea about me. A lot of people assume that I choose the stage as my medium because I just want to be seen, to feel the burn of hundreds of eyes at a time. But there's more to it than that. I learned young that ambition is nothing without passion, and trust me, the feelings that I hold for performance are as passionate as anyone has ever been about anything. I absolutely love everything about it. From the grueling hours of practice, to the intense mental strain of creating a becoming a character, to the incredible feeling that comes from putting your entire soul into every note that comes from your mouth, I love everything about it, and I would give anything to be able to continue this forever.

That's why this is so important to me. Generally, my great ambitions are, admittedly, too high to be realistically met. Whether it's because of time, resources, or incompetence of others, I've been forced in the end to lower the bar for myself. But now, things may be different. For perhaps the first time in my life, my ambition is sitting nearly face to face with reality, and I don't care what has to be done to fully close that gap.

I live my life by a fairly simple philosophy: decide what you want, identify what has to be done to achieve it, make that happen no matter what has to be sacrificed or who has to suffer. I know that comes across as harsh to some people, but it's how I've become the person that I am today, and I'll be honest, I like that person. She is talented, interesting, intelligent, and attractive, but she is missing one thing: a future. But that final piece of the puzzle could soon be in place. This scholarship is the beginning of a pathway to the rest of the life that I've wanted, no…needed, since I first stepped onto a stage.

Yes, there are some impediments to me reaching that path. Despite what I might say in public, some of the others vying for the same dream approach my level of talent and dedication, and for that I truly do admire and respect them. But life isn't about letting others walk over you just because you like them personally. It's about doing what you have to do in order to carve out your own piece in the world. And like I said, sometimes what is truly necessary to do that is to cut down those that stand in your way. And trust me, when it comes to accomplishing the most important thing in my entire life, I won't hesitate to do just that.

**I'm not totally sure about this one. I'm fairly sure that it will be the chapter that was most difficult to write for me, but I hope you liked the results. The next chapter will be about Ryan, and is going to be a sequel to this. Actually sequel is the wrong word, call it a sequel-ish.**

**Thanks for reading, and I'd appreciate any thoughts/reviews you have.  
**


	3. Ruthlessness

**Here is the next chapter. As stated, this is sort of a sequel to the last one. I'm going to be putting this up in two uploads, because the chapter turned out to be quite long, so this is Part one. I don't own anything.**

Ryan sat alone in his home studio, mulling over what had just happened to him and feeling worse every time that he reflected on it. The most frustrating part of it all was that he had thought that his day was going great, and then he felt it all come to a startling crash.

He had stayed up late the previous night finishing the written part of his Julliard scholarship application, and woke up with the familiar refreshing feeling that he always got when he stayed up late working on something. Of course it was accompanied by tiredness from getting only a couple hours of sleep, but his excitement at the thoughts of the future helped alleviate that. Of course, he knew that Julliard was a long shot, but he also knew that he was the type of person that thrived on challenge, and he embraced this one with open arms. All throughout each of his classes he was thinking of new steps and dances that he could use in his audition piece, with each creative burst seeming better than the previous one.

The turning point in his day happened soon after he got home. Eager to put together some of his choreography before it left his mind, he hurried into the Evans' home studio and put on some music: an upbeat poppy song that he often used for testing out new dances and moves. A couple of minutes into his process, Sharpay walked into the room. "Hey sis!" he said energetically. The strong combination of the physical exertion that he had started, the upbeat music reverberating through his ears, and the creative excitement that he had gone through all day, Ryan was feeling exhausted in the most wonderful sort of way.

"Hi Ry, could I use the studio in a bit. I'm still figuring out which piece to use for my audition," Sharpay said, sounding uncharacteristically friendly, though Ryan attributed this to the excitement about Julliard that he knew he shared with his sister. "Yeah, sure," he told her, "actually, do you think you could help me out a bit? I've been got a few dance ideas for my audition, could you run a couple for me?"

"Of course. Anything I can do to help," Sharpay said with an amiable smile that caught Ryan, even in his state, off guard. "Really? I know you don't like being my model too much…"

"Ryan, that's different. Sure I get annoyed when you try to add flares to our little school shows, but this is important…this is the future. I'd be more than happy to do whatever I can to help you with something like this. In fact, when we're done do you think that you could listen to a couple of solos that I've been working on?"

"Yeah, sure," Ryan told her, now slightly caught off guard at his sister's tone and behavior. Even when they were alone and no one else was watching, Ryan knew that she was never this open with him, or so willing to listen to his (or anyone's, for that matter) opinion. Generally his smallest constructive criticisms were met with casual dismissal at best, and complete scorn at worst. With his sister helping him so freely and even actively seeking his opinion, Ryan wasn't sure whether to be flattered or terrified.

Deciding to put that decision off until later, he started to show Sharpay what he had been working on, with the hope of being able to see how it looked, something that doing the moves himself didn't offer. "So, I'll start with the steps to show you what they are, then I'll watch you, okay?"

"Sounds good."

Unfortunately, this process didn't last long. After just a few minutes, Sharpay hesitated. "Something wrong?" Ryan asked, noticing that she had fallen back a few steps. "…no…its…its nothing," she said apprehensively. "Come one, what is it?"

"Well, these are just some ideas you had, right? Like, you just came up with them today?"

"Actually this dance I've been working on for a while now. Why do you ask?" Ryan asked, not liking the direction that he realized Sharpay was headed.

"Its just that…I mean don't get me wrong Ryan, this is a nice dance…I don't know if it's _Julliard_ material though."

"You don't like it?"

"No…I do, trust me…Ryan, you're great…really. But this is just kind of…pedestrian. I mean, Julliard is going to be looking for the best of the best. They want the one that goes beyond what's expected. Is that really what this dance is?" Ryan wasn't sure how to respond to this. He was certainly used to his sister's criticism, but usually it came in erratic bursts of yelling, not the measured, almost gentle, tone that she was now using. "I don't know…I mean, it's not what I was definitely going to use for my audition, but I was thinking about it. I mean, I know it needs work, but I thought it was a decent starting point."

"Well…why don't you show me something else?" Sharpay said evasively. Ryan sighed deeply, but assented, "sure…I have a few other things I've been working on."

But each time ended the same way. Sharpay had some concern that she masked with politeness and a patient, or at least pseudo-patient, tone that was beginning to drive Ryan crazy. Every dance that he showed her was too rough, too slow, or too dull. No matter what the criticism was, Sharpay always finished by saying something about how he was auditioning for "_Julliard,"_ stretching out the word far more than necessary, and saying it in a tone that implied that Ryan had never heard the word before.

Finally, Ryan couldn't take it anymore. "Look Sharpay, thank you for helping, but I'm not looking for criticism. I just want to see how the dances look," he said in a voice that seemed stuck between meek and furious. "Well, I'm sorry Ryan, but I don't want you to be disappointed."

"What are you saying Sharpay?"

"Just that I'm not sure if this is the material that you want to show to a school like Julliard if you want to really be taken seriously there," Sharpay told him, sounding as if he had asked what the weather would be tomorrow.

Suddenly Ryan could take no more of his sister. Everything she was doing was just too much for him to take. "Get out," he said, not caring to sound polite or friendly anymore. "What?" Sharpay asked him. For the first time her voice had started to lose its silky edge. "You heard me. Get. Out. Now," Ryan was speaking to his sister as he never had before. But he couldn't stand to be in her presence any longer. "Wow. Someone can't take a little constructive criticism," she shot back bitterly, "next time I'll try not to help. But I'm not leaving. I need to rehearse."

"Constructive criticism? Honestly Sharpay, at the very least don't pretend that I'm stupid. It would be nice if you could show me an ounce of respect every now and then."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I just thought that-"

"No…just, don't start. I can't even look at you right now. Please, just go."

"Fine, but you know I'm right," Sharpay said before turning around and storming out with the aggressive grace that seemed to cling to her no matter what the situation. Ryan just sat in the same chair, too angry and upset to think straight. Finally realizing that the dance music was still blaring through the speakers, he got up and turned it off, leaving himself in a silence that seemed far more deafening than the previous beats.

It was just then that he realized just how exhausted he was, and it took all of his strength not to fall asleep at the spot where he was standing. Eager to do something that had nothing to do with music or dancing, he took some textbooks out of his backpack, and tried to complete some of the schoolwork that he had fallen behind on in the past couple of weeks, due to working on his application and choreography more than he ever had.

But just at the thought of choreography, he was unable to concentrate on his work 9or anything other than his blinding rage at his sister) for another few minutes. After calming down enough to return to his books, Ryan started writing down notes for a history paper that had been assigned a few weeks ago, but that he had not even though about until now. But he soon realized that the essay would be put off for at least a few hours more, as just a few minutes later his tiredness overtook him and he collapsed in his chair into a deep and thoughtless sleep.

**I've already written the second part, so I'll upload it pretty soon.**

**Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you thought.**


	4. Ruthlessness Pt 2

Sharpay looked at herself in the mirror, but she was beginning to understand very quickly why Ryan had said he couldn't look at her. She was having trouble maintain eye contact with her reflection without being filled with self-loathing. It wasn't a feeling that she was accustomed to, and she didn't care for it in the least. She knew that Ryan wasn't just upset, he was livid. In all their years, Sharpay couldn't remember seeing her often annoyingly upbeat brother this mad at anyone. She wasn't sure is he had seen through her ploy, but that didn't matter. What did matter was that she feared that her brother would never see her the same way again. He had always forgiven her scheming, even though it rarely ended well for him, but this time was different. He had been the target.

She had always told herself that no price was too high when her goal really and truly mattered to her. But now she was realizing that, while this had indeed been her goal ever since she knew what performing was, there truly were costs that she couldn't afford, and boundaries that she couldn't cross. And now she wasn't even sure if Ryan would be able to look at her the same way again, but she knew that she had to try to change what she had done.

"Ryan, wake up," Sharpay said quietly. She had walked into the studio to find Ryan curled up with a text book in his hand, using his hat as a makeshift pillow. Ryan stirred for a few seconds, and then realized where he was and, judging by his reaction at seeing his sister, what had occurred in the past hours. "What do you want?" Ryan asked, his voice a mixture of irritation and drowsiness. "Your stuff is great," Sharpay said earnestly. She had never been good at apologizing, but knew that approaching the topic directly would be the best way to go. "I know," Ryan told her, not cockily, but more self-assured than he was used to talking to her.

"So, why did you get so mad when I said it wasn't?"

"Oh please…I wasn't even that mad at you. I just hated that I didn't see it coming."

"What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean, Sharpay. I thought that you were helping me with something that's really important, but you were just being selfish and inconsiderate as usual. I thought that you had gotten over your mindset of not caring what happened to anyone else as long as you get what you want. And worst of all, I thought that you saw me as your brother and your friend, not just an obstacle to your future that needed to be cut down," by the end of his rant, Ryan had fully woken up, and any tiredness he had felt was replaced with anger and disgust. "Look, Ryan, it wasn't like that," Sharpay said desperately. "Oh?" ryan didn't sound convinced.

"No…look Ryan, I know that I come off as willing to do whatever it takes to win, but that's not why I acted like I did. You're…incredible. Not just at choreography, but as a person. You're my best friend in the world. Hell, let's be honest, you're pretty much my only friend. Ever since this Julliard thing, I've been horrified of losing you. I mean, they'd be crazy not to take you, and I can't take that, so I tried to keep you with me, even at your expense."

"So the whole thing was about not losing me?" Ryan asked disbelievingly, "are you being honest?"

"…no," Sharpay admitted quietly, unable to lie further to her brother, "I did it because I wanted to win, and you were in the way."

"Yeah, I'll see you around," Ryan said dismissively, and started to leave. "Ryan, wait."

He stopped, and turned slightly. "That part wasn't true, but the rest was. You are my best friend, and I couldn't stand losing you."

"You sure have an odd way of showing it." Ryan's voice was still bitter, but he had turned around fully, which Sharpay took as a good sign. "I know. Trust me Ryan, I know. And as mad at me as you may be right now, trust me…I'm more mad at myself. I've never hated myself more than I do right now."

"That's called regret. I guess you're not too familiar with it," Ryan said, though his face had become slightly more understanding.

"Yeah…its something I try to avoid…" The two looked at each other, unsure of what to say next.

To break the silence, Sharpay said, "look Ryan, I know how I acted, but you really are more important to me than this stupid scholarship."

"How am I supposed to believe that? How can I trust you at all?" Ryan asked. His voice had lost its angry edge, and now he just sounded hurt. "I don't know…I mean, I don't deserve your trust. I really don't. But I'll do anything to get it back."

"I…I don't know…"

"I'll drop out," Sharpay said quickly. "What?"

"Of the scholarship competition. I won't apply. I can't go behind anyone's baack to try to win it if I'm not applying," Sharpay said desperately.

"I don't want that, Sharpay. Unlike some people, I want those close to me to succeed. Even if it means that I don't," Ryan said pointedly.

"I deserved that."

"Yeah, I thought so," Ryan said, though he was smiling softly. "Well then what _can_ I do?"

"…You really would have quit it wouldn't you?"

"In a second."

"Even though this is something that means a lot to you?"

"I've wanted it forever."

"So you'd be putting someone else's happiness above your own?"

"Yeah…I guess I would be."

"Well, just that you'd be willing to…maybe that's enough."

"Really?" she asked, smiling. "Maybe. I'm not saying that we're completely okay, but I think we will be."

"Wow, thank you so much Ryan, you don't know how glad I am to hear you say that," Sharpay said, almost completely losing her composure for a second, though she straightened herself back quickly. "You know, there is something that I still do need."

"Anything."

"Well, I was going to have someone help model my choreography, but it didn't work out too well. Do you think you could fill in?'

"I'd love to," Sharpay said, sounding highly relieved, and even excited.

"Alright, well…for the first one, stand here, and start in this position, then…"

Sharpay barely heard what her brother was saying. She knew he'd have to repeat the instructions, but she didn't care, because whether or not she got the Julliard scholarship, she knew that she had what was most important to her, and it was something that had always had, without any form of application, tryout, or audition.

**Hope you liked how this one ended. Let me know what you thought, whether good or bad. I appreciate all input. The final chapter will focus on Troy, though I haven't fully decided what it will be about.**

**Thanks for reading.**


	5. Passion

**Here is Troy's installment in the series. This one is quite different, since its not really from Troy's point of view. Instead, its based on a scene described in the third movie, where Ms. Darbus tells Troy why she nominated him for the scholarship. This chapter gives my take on that scene. It takes place between the first and second movies. **

After adventures and misadventures, and through many happenings that the East High drama department had never anticipated, the dress rehearsals for the Winter Musicale were almost upon them. Mrs. Darbus wasn't sure how she felt about the close of her most interesting production to date. On one hand, it had been frustrating working with two leads who, while they both were talented singers who worked with an extremely natural chemistry, were completely ignorant when it came to many of the finer points of the theater. It had taken much longer than normal for them to learn even fairly simple choreography, and while they were natural singers, many of the songs required versatility that couldn't come naturally to even the best voices.

But the experience had also been an invigorating challenge for the drama teacher, who had been taught by this show that she had been caught in a theatrical rut for many years, choosing shows that were often dull, and giving the most important parts to those with experience rather than taking a chance on undeveloped talent. This production had inspired her to look beyond the surface of both performers and performances. In fact, she even had plans for a highly experimental work next year, which would incorporate a great number of students, and act as (what she hoped) would be both very personal and important to all who were involved. She had come to see the theater not just as a place of expression, but as a place to learn both about the world and oneself.

If she were to be perfectly honest with herself, the inspiration for all of these changes in her teaching method and view of the theater came entirely from one person: Troy Bolton. As much as she didn't want to admit it, Troy Bolton was much different than what she thought when he first auditioned to be in the musicale. At the time, she had seen him mainly as a symbol of the basketball team that her school would so anything to support, even at the expense of other programs (especially her own). She also hated the sense of entitlement that he seemed to have, merely because of his athletic skills. But if his impromptu yet admittedly well done callback didn't convince Ms. Darbus that she had greatly underestimated the young athlete, the musicale's first audition certainly did.

She had a habit of making the first audition quite rigorous, to let her students know what they should expect, and to weed out those who wouldn't be willing to put their all into the performances. This rehearsal, however, had been the most rigorous first rehearsal that she had ever been a part of. Even at the time, she knew that it wasn't fair to be this tough in the first rehearsal, but she justified it by telling herself that two tryouts were hardly enough to tell whether or not the completely inexperienced leads of a musical could handle the rigors of the stage.

Once again, Troy Bolton exceeded her expectations. Though all of the work and exercises were completely new to him, and he stumbled through many of them, he pursued them with enthusiasm and passion, a look of determination on his face that she had never seen in the classroom. Even though the work generally wasn't very interesting (so early in the production it never was), the young man was obviously putting all of himself into them, and even encouraged his cast mates when the work became particularly arduous. At the end of the very long rehearsal, Troy even stayed behind to ask Mrs. Darbus to help him make sure that he had a few of the more difficult dance steps down, so that he could practice more at home. He met her look of surprise with his own glance of sheepish enthusiasm. The two ended up staying for nearly an hour more, going through several fairly advanced steps. Though at the end of the rehearsal, it was clear that dance didn't come to him nearly as natural as basketball or even singing, the fact that he was so enthusiastic at the chance to improve had completely changed Mrs. Darbus's opinion of him.

Even better than Troy's passion was improving himself, was his desire, and ability, to improve those around him. This was something that he could practically do without even trying. Whether because of his popularity, charisma, or simply his desire to improve himself, Troy radiated an energy that was beyond contagious. His mere presence made people want to do their best, and that was without him even trying. Whenever Troy focused on someone, he talked to them as if they were the only person in the world, and as if he had absolute faith in them. From her years of experience in the theater, Ms. Darbus knew that trust in the other people on the stage was perhaps the greatest key to making a performance work, and the fact that Troy was able to build that trust with everyone with whom he worked meant more to the success of the musical than he could ever imagine.

Though Troy had an excellent rapport with everyone in the performance, it was unmatched by the way that he worked with Ms. Gabriella Montez. While Ms. Montez was a rather talented singer, a very diligent worker, and possessed a wonderfully graceful presence, it was always more obvious that she had never performed than it was with Troy. While the two were about equal in natural talent, she didn't possess Troy's passion, charisma, or confidence (though Ms. Darbus did measure some level of these qualities in the girl, and didn't regret casting her at all). At times, she came across as extremely shy on the stage. At these times, her voice was softer, her movements terse, and even her singing faltered. However, it was these times when Troy shone his brightest. He was always able to recognize when Gabriella was nervous, and would go out of his way to give her a comforting word or hug. Of course, it was obvious that the relationship between them was far more than merely professional, so Ms. Darbus wasn't surprised at Troy spending a little extra time with her, but she was surprised at the positive effect that Troy could have on her. She would be able to recover almost immediately, and generally went on to perform at her peak. In fact, Ms. Darbus had noticed that the two even developed a sort of code before each time they performed, where their eyes would meet intensely, and it almost seemed as if they were going through the scene with each other without even speaking. Ms. Darbus had decided not to say anything about this, thinking it better to let their pre-performance ritual seem more personal.

Ms. Darbus considered all of this as she looked at the paper in her hand. It was the letter informing her that her program had been granted the opportunity for a student to earn a scholarship to their highly prestigious institution. The thoughts of this scholarship opportunity and Troy Bolton had been intermixing in her mind almost since she received the letter. At first the idea seemed mad. Troy Bolton had made it clear that while he was giving this show his full effort, it would be the end of his theater experience, even at the high school level. Even if he did have the interest, how would Julliard respond to an applicant whose first theatrical experience of any kind occurred at the end of their junior year? She knew that this scholarship wasn't just an incredible opportunity for a single student, but for the whole program, and nominating such an inexperienced candidate could cause an embarrassment that would make Julliard to rethink giving attention to East High in the future. Besides…there were quite a few candidates who would do anything for such an opportunity. The creative enthusiasm of Ryan Evans, the overwhelming drive and ambition of Sharpay Evans, and the quiet, delicate brilliance of Kelsi Nielsen all sprang to mind as forerunners, but even beyond those three, there were many students who would kill a place at the foremost performing arts school.

And yet…none of them had quite the…what was it? Passion? Spark? There was some indefinable quality that gave Troy such a natural presence on the stage, and allowed him to lift not just his own performance, but that of everyone else.

Despite all of the obstacles that she knew would probably keep Troy from reaching his true potential in the theater, and knowing that he himself would probably never follow the path that could be set out for him, Ms. Darbus knew that she would never forgive herself for ignoring such potential greatness, and with that in mind, wrote his name determinedly on the list of candidates.

**I'm marking this story as complete, but I actually have a couple of ideas for a sort-of sequel to this chapter, which would be more from Troy's point of view. If you want to see something like that, let me know (I don't ask because I'm looking for more reviews, just because I'm pretty happy with the story as it is, and want to see if others think more would be good). Either way, thank you very much for reading, and I would greatly appreciate any feedback you have. **

**Thanks again. **


End file.
